This isn’t good.
An iciness coats my skin, my back stiff.
I stare down at Brandon’s motionless body, his cold gaze holding secrets. The thudding of hurried footsteps gets closer before Jack appears, breathing heavily and cataloging the scene with that beautiful, detail-focused mind of his.
He’s got a gun in his hand—a different one from before, and a look of danger lighting his eyes. It’s the kind of look that means he’s prepared for trouble, not afraid of it. He stoops down and presses his fingers to Brandon’s neck, checking for a pulse that’s obviously not there. But then a trace of confusion sweeps across his face, reminding me I’m standing over a dead body with the potential murder weapon in my hand.
“It’s not what it looks like.”
He furrows his brow. “It looks like you’re not where I left you, and you’re standing over a dead body with a weapon.”
“Circumstantial,” I grimace, trying not to meet Brandon’s frozen stare again.
“Did you touch the body?” He frowns at me before his eyes flick to the canyon walls above us.
“No! Also,ew.”
A snort escapes before he brings his gaze back to me. “I know you didn’t kill a man, Lo.”
“Well, obviously.”
I look at Brandon’s clothes, shaking my head at his state. The secrets in this place just keep getting stickier. If Brandon is dead, then who the heck killed him, and what are they going to do next? And how pissed are they at me for sabotaging their diabolical plans?
That surge of panic begins to throb in my neck as the danger lies mockingly at my feet. I tamp it down, packing it into a tightlittle purse for later, choosing to focus on what I can wrap my mind around now.
“Can you imagine going out like this?” I frown.
Jack scoffs. “In the Grand Canyon with a rock to the head?”
“No, in these colors! They’re doing nothing for him. The man looks gray, and it’s got nothing to do with the fact that his heart is no longer working.”
Jack’s mouth moves like he wants to say something, but nothing comes out. The silence grows before he speaks. “You’re handling the presence of a dead body pretty well…”
“Oh, I’ll definitely freak out about it later when my eyeliner won’t go on right or when I pick a shopping cart that only wants to turn left.”
“Yeah. This kinda thing can hit you at the most arbitrary times. But if you wanna talk about it now…I’m, uh…I’m here.”
This teddy bear.
I need to shake us both out of a potential free fall to freaking out. I can see it in his jaw, just as I feel it in the tightening of my own muscles. He’s about to go into full-on damage-control mode and shut me out, and I’m seconds away from rocking back and forth in the fetal position. Maybe it’s my own way of not fully dealing with the fact that, yes, there is a dead body at my feet. But can you blame me after the insanity of the past four days?
I clear my throat and glance down at Brandon again. “There is something you can do for me…” I tell Jack.
“Anything.”
Ugh, he’s making it really hard not to climb him like a tree and never let go. If I weren’t injured, I’d consider it.
“If I die out here, don’t let them bury me in anything with a cool or gray undertone. I refuse to look lifeless at my funeral. And absolutely no charcoal. It’s the worst color on me.” I bite my lip. A few days ago, my seemingly insurmountable challenge was how to tell my dad I can’t finish my degree; nowI’m staring death in the face. And I can’t hold back the slightly hysterical sob that thought elicits.
Jack’s nostrils flare as he pins me with a glare, heated and stubborn. “You’re not dying out here.”
“You don’t know that. I mean, I’ve come pretty close.” I sniff, wiping away a tear. “A rock could fall on my head, or a herd of squirrels could attack me.”
“I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“Some things are just out of our control, Jack,” I say, hoping maybe some of this will reach the wound he’s kept plastered up. “It’s not fair to put that kind of pressure on yourself, and you’re not responsible for saving everyone.”
He huffs, throwing his hands up as he steps back. “I know I can’t save everybody.”
